


In-Between

by SeaTempest



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaTempest/pseuds/SeaTempest
Summary: Swords are kinky, said no one ever.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	In-Between

Sakura has never thought she'd live the day to see such primitive starvation soaked into him as he bashed shut the door she just opened for him, sleepy and still holding the book she has been busy reading in the last hour. Seven months straight and he never sent her any news about anything, leaving her to guess and wonder.

The words at the tip of her tongue were lost in the high elevation his reappearance caused, but then she noticed the almost invisible difference in him, the vitreous glaze of his menacingly shifting Mangekyo and Rinnegan. He removed his cloak and let it fall most casually like the floor was where it belonged. It would've been funny if he didn't look at her like that.

_Did he… teleport himself home?_

Sakura's lips parted open, but her mouth had turned dry in the meantime. Looking up at him without blinking birthed this odd half-fear, half-frustration in her and she didn't know how she's supposed to react. Her body flinched at the slow unsheathing of his katana before her mind comprehended what he's actually doing.

She swallowed, eyes bouncing from his eyes to his hand and back, still at a loss. He was fixed on her with fierce intent and for a while, they just stared at each other. Then he raised his sword and pushed its end against the base of her neck, making her back away a few steps, her legs leaning against the nearest table, as the front door directly accessed their living room. Sakura absently dropped the book and swallowed again, the concern starting to get to her.

If it was amusing to him in any way, she had no way of telling —his handsome features were pale and still like carved stone, the wild flicker in his eyes only bringing life to them. Something did flicker inside them, but she wasn't sure… The cold edge slid down and slowly cut through, stopping at her solar plexus, and she was forced to hold her breath and remain perfectly still while the incision lasted. Then he tipped her nightgown off her shoulder and revealed the black lace she wore underneath.

Sakura blinked.

_Oh._

She didn’t utter a word, wishing he wasn't as mysterious every time he got something weird on his mind. It was freaking her out. Why couldn't he just be like all her friends' husbands? He couldn't just go in and kiss her like all the others. He couldn't stay, he never stayed. He didn't tell her what he liked, didn't ask her what _she_ liked. He only trusted his touch and his reality, and everything beyond was labile and deceptive. And what she liked was fully translated to how she reacted to whatever he did. And he remembered everything she reacted to, she could give him that. At least that's how she explained herself this whole cycle of everything they did, from her meeting him to sending him off again.

His preferences weren't quite clear to her yet, given that they spend fewer nights together than they dated and that particular part of their life was still really blurry to her. She was happy with their pace, though. Every time he returned to Konoha, his memories caught up with him, but every time they did, he came at her door. Still cold and still reserved, but better and kinder, making her heart swell with joy.

He had an entirely different language of interaction and so she reminded herself she was wrong to want him to be like any other husband in the first place. And thank all gods he wasn't, because heat had already started to spread all over her body at the sight of him, standing a sword away from her with this haughty, regal air about him.

Sakura was curious whether he had channeled all that darkness and hatred he lost when the War ended into some sort of an alter ego that only she has seen glimpses of. She had to bite her lip hard to keep from smiling. Her smiling usually violated his power and forestalled a harsh punishment, so she forced herself to remain unchanged. That alter ego, she suspected he had let it loose and it had slipped through the cracks of the desire he emanated ever since he came in. For the first time, she had the privilege to meet it.

He slightly tilted his head as his katana cut the soft fabric all the way down with one elegant motion and she almost sighed. Shame… she really liked that one. The good news was that wearing lace every night paid off because she never knew when he'd come back. And, oh he just loved it on her.

Sakura licked her lips, eyes never leaving his, and she couldn't help it: the smile just emerged on top, escaping her concentration. The light of his interest was rapidly switched by a glare and his hold on the katana became stronger. He tipped the edge and raised her chin, successfully erasing the amusement from her features.

She rubbed her thighs together, the pulse between her legs becoming even more aggravating than the full strain of her body under the mental pressure he exercised with that continuous, heavy silence. The motion distracted him and he ran his eyes all over her, forgetting to be menacing for a split second.

Sakura stripped the remains of her gown and leaned her hands back, on the table's surface, perfectly aware that the pose contoured all her curves and flat stomach. Drawing herself back, she sat on the table and spread her legs open, fighting the amusement that bubbled inside her. He had nothing on her, she mused, noticing the way his jaw clenched and his body wired at her slow motions.

She laid back, slightly arched, and reached for him to come closer and so he did, making the tipped edge dance over her neck, over the bridge of her bra and down her stomach, in a perfect line, until it reached her lower piece. Sakura shivered at the cold, metallic touch and her skin prickled under it. The strain on his face was badly concealed and just the sight of it flushed a heatwave over her. She wondered… her thought faded away when the sword lightly slid back up and the cusp stuck at the fabric of her bra, and stopped there.

Sasuke was watching at her chest as it heaved up and down with growing excitement and the firmness on his youthful features suddenly broke with a single blink —his Mangekyo dissolved and so did the tomoe in his Rinnegan, and she could see the lust and the ardor in him clearer now, sharpening his usual calmness to visible antagonism.

He pressed further and the sibilance of fabric ripping, as deafened as it was, resounded in the silence of the room distinctly, revealing her chest. Sakura's breath was shaking as she remained motionless, heavily flushed and a tad surprised. Surprised because she remembered the time, not so long ago, when he would hold his sword against her with the same amount of intense precision, but with the only purpose to kill her.

The sword had left a faint red marking along her body, she noticed just now, looking down at herself.

Did he think about that? Did the scene remind him of it? Perhaps. The glaze on his eyes had become absent as if he wasn't with her for a moment. Amidst her inconvenience, as she was now almost fully naked and lying on a table, she peered into his eyes and saw nothing close to hatred. Maybe regret. Or fear. Somehow, the marking on her skin had disturbed his act.

Sakura heaved up to a sitting position, at the table's end, and decided it's her turn. He was surely about to fall victim to his morbid thoughts and to the exhaustion that the need successfully benumbed so far. She knew the alter ego wouldn't allow her to touch, but was he even aware of it at this point?

Sakura slid down her panties and smiled at him mischievously, before grabbing the sword he pointed at her and pulling it closer. The spirals of soft green immediately weaved around her hand as she felt the stinging of the cuts she created but didn't really mind. They were in the spirit of the night anyway (at least now she knew he was into sword stripping). As much as she was certain violence kind of turned him on, violence on _her_ seemingly roused mixed feelings. Her hands removed his from the grip and cast the katana aside, fisting his clothes to bring him close and wrap herself around him.

His lips were apart with the passionate kiss she stormed onto him and his breath snatched, his hand wrapping around her waist and guiding her back down on the hard surface again.

Sakura roamed down his chest and pulled his shirt up, breaking their kiss to remove it, and once she did he breathed out a silent _thanks_ against her lips, making her chuckle. It was convenient from both sides because she took great pleasure in stripping him and he did nothing to oppose, aware that it was easier to let her do it rather than struggling on his own.

The first times were the times when he was absent for small periods and they were casual and patient, and gentle. Then his periods of absence prolonged and he came home tired and harassed in a way that she wasn't able to mend. The encounters were routine and the conversations curt, and evanescent.

Then he was gone for seven months straight and she cried because that's what his lack did to her, that's what it always did. And now he came back and she expected that he'd be apart again, in his own way, like his pains were his own and she had no right to come in touch with them.

Something changed again, in him maybe, or in her. As if they weren't young anymore, even though they barely scratched the surface of their twenties. He did not seek freedom this time, not forgiveness or salvation. It was so profoundly specific and delicately altered so that she could comprehend and participate, and she did. She wondered when she'd mastered the frequencies of his mind so well.

Eager to cease the craving that he built with his unapologetic, frenzied kissing, she pushed down his pants and wreathed around his waist. After their first uncomfortable and rather awkward attempts to have sex, she decided that the key was to trick him into believing he was nothing without her. Then he got really mad and figured everything out.

He seized her abruptly and her body arched with the sensation, moaning at another wave of pleasant fervor that she was met with at the clash of their bodies, the hardness of his skin, and the familiar feeling of it against hers. Her chakra splashed over the newest scars she touched on his neck and down his back, her fingers skimming over them as gently and unobtrusively as possible.

She couldn't quite move, stretched almost to the point of soreness and clenched by him, but soothingly. She was lidded and consumed at the same time and it gave her the safety she craved all this time she spent alone. The soft cries and strangled, loud breaths that fell off her lips she didn't bother to stifle because she loved that loud silence, every bit of it. The in-between, filled with a wordless relief. He had missed her.

His half-sighs, half-moans in her ear sent shivers down her spine and that was how she knew it worked well. So she kept going, losing herself in the rhythmic tautness of her body, his slow thrusts, and the odd, dull pleasure she felt climb slowly in her core.

He spurred her enough to reach her peak, eventually, even though she was not sure he'd hold on to it, as tired as he appeared. She felt her body protest and already ache against the hardwood beneath her not until he pressed his body closer to her by instinct as he reached his own peak and his breath hitched with a groan.

Sakura tried her best to not move, but fortunately, he realized her discomfort at a convenient time and backed away. He leaned in to find her lips, slightly probing at them as if to get her attention and it did. It made her open her eyes and gasp as he used his Rinnegan to switch their places in the second she caught his gaze.

Before she could restore her sense of direction, she was already on top and staring down at him with horror. The blush darkened her face as she finally refocused and saw a smile of amusement on his thin lips. Her irises widened in shock and she held her breath. It didn't matter that her body ached anymore, everything evaporated in an instant.

Sasuke discarded his eye powers as fast as he had activated them and raised a brow. Her petrifaction lasted a little more than usual.

"What?"

"Sorry, just…" Sakura blinked a few times, shaking her head. "It's n-nothing."

Sasuke furrowed.

"Tell me."

"N-never had sex on a table before," she flushed red, and her eyes darted to the front door, where his cloak still lied.

"Tell me," he repeated, in the same tone and she looked back at him, swallowing.

Nothing remained hidden from him, that was for sure. She thought for a second and sighed, fingers reaching through his hair absently and body relaxing over his. It was a little longer than she remembered but just as dark. The momentary thought was discarded as she reminded herself he awaited an answer, observing her patiently and with an intriguing resolve as if to carefully recollect all the familiar emotions of her face and recognize new ones if there were such.

"The last time I saw you smile was about thirteen years ago. I thought it was gonna be the last time," the words rolled out of her quickly and she glanced at him, hoping her words didn't sound as cheesy to him as they did to her. "I'm glad it wasn't."

Sasuke held her eyes for a while, thinking over her words. The warmth had surely scattered all over her face during those long seconds and she feared he wouldn't reply at all. She continued curling his hair around her fingers restlessly.

"I must be getting high on your chakra."

Even though his intonation suggested it was supposed to make her laugh, her eyes blurred instead. Sakura leaned her forehead against his.

"I missed you so much," she mouthed quietly, voice shaking. "If you plan to disappear like that for months, at least warn me about it, okay?"

The remorse was visible in his eyes as he nodded at her and wrapped his hand around her, his tips absently caressing her bare skin.

"I'll always come back and you know it."

She stared at him, reassuring herself that he was telling the truth and he probably was because he had a sincere warmth about him now. Her extreme closeness always kept him from speaking anything that would upset or hurt her immensely.

"Yeah," Sakura reached for her eyes and brushed away the tears in them. "I know."

Sasuke heaved up a tad, just enough to kiss her forehead. "Good."

**Author's Note:**

> I had reasons to celebrate when I wrote that so I thought I should write some fluffy SS. Hope you liked it!


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